


Francisco "Catfish" Morales Drabbles

by housekenobi



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, She/Her, for once, no y/n, see individual chapters for warnings, the angst isn't like terrible tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/housekenobi/pseuds/housekenobi
Summary: A short collection of Frankie drabbles, all from prompt requests. Small Town, Anniversary, and Homecoming. They take place in the same universe. I do not accept the canon that Frankie was involved in cocaine use, it was lazy writing and it doesn't sit for me so we yeeted that little tidbit off the nearest cliff.
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Kudos: 8





	1. Small Town

**Author's Note:**

> Small Town: You and Frankie are best friends, but his feelings for your run a little bit deeper than friendship (fluff with a lil’ angst and a kiss)  
> Warnings: lovesick and yearning Frankie, a lil’ bit of angst, alcohol use  
> Prompts: “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you” with lovesick Frankie and “How much have you had to drink tonight” with yearning Frankie

Frankie adjusted his hat in the rear view mirror of his pickup truck before looking at the bar and sighing. He doesn’t know why you always pick the same place for your birthday, wishing he could shake that high school memory where your older brother found the two of you around the corner of the building, about to share in a first kiss. 

The moment was ruined after that and you went on to kiss several far more popular guys before you graduated, taking a piece of his heart with him when you went to college. He took to the army instead, wanting to fly, but just like everyone else he wound back to the same small town, surrounded by the same people, at the same bar, on your birthday. 

And for you, his best friend? He’d do anything, even if it meant having to watch Donny and Jayce play beer pong for the ten millionth time while he quietly sipped his beer at the bar, carefully watching you on the dance floor, alert to your surroundings so you wouldn’t have to be. 

When he walked into the bar you noticed him immediately, face breaking into a huge grin while you rushed to crush him in a hug.

“Frankie you came!” you said excitedly, bouncing on your heels while wrapping your fingers in his.

“‘Course I did,” he smiled gently at you, noticing your dilated pupils and feeling your hammering pulse course through the vein in your wrist.

“C’mon, come dance with me,” you said, pulling on his hand. 

He groaned and tipped his head back, following along with you only because you wanted him to. When you got to the dance floor you spun yourself under his arm, coming back to stand in front of him and bounce to the rhythm. He tried so hard to watch your face, but the way your chest bounced under your clothes kept drawing his eye down, only to snap back up to stare into your smile. If you noticed, you didn’t care. 

It wasn’t long before some of your friends came by and pulled you away, leaving him alone in a sea of people he just barely tolerated and only for your sake. He made his way to his spot at the end of the bar, getting his usual beer. He sat against the corner and sipped while he watched you, quietly taking in every luscious curve of your body. The way your chest moved up and down as you breathed; the curve of your hips, popping to a particularly good beat; the round of your ass, swaying side to side as you moved your feet. 

“ **You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you**?” he muttered to himself, watching you with your friends; his soft smile turning to a hard line when Donny came by you, surely planning to try another one of his lame pick up lines. You danced with him for a song and Frankie’s beer started tasting worse, so he set it to the side while contemplating what excuse he could use to leave early. He couldn’t watch you go home with someone else. 

_Again_. 

Frankie turned to the bartender to pay his tab, still running viable excuses to leave through his head when you appeared at his shoulder.

“You’re not leaving yet are you Frankie?”

He turned to look at you, your eyes wide, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. “Well, I-” 

The words had barely started to tumble out of his mouth when you stole the cap off his head, putting it on yours and flashing him a wink before running out of the bar. He rolled his eyes and got up, calling your name as he stepped outside. He heard your drunken giggle around the corner and ran his hand through his hair, breathing out an exasperated sigh. 

“Alright,” he said while he rounded the corner. He lost his train of thought while he looked at you in your favorite birthday outfit, half illuminated by the street lamp, eyes covered by the brim of his too big baseball cap settled on your ears.

“Hey Frankie,” you breathed, twisting your hands together while you bounced on your heels a little bit; “you remember the last time we were here?” 

“We come here every year for your birthday,” he muttered, the brief memory of the kiss that never was flashing in his mind again. 

“Not that,” you said, slowly walking towards him.

“Remember, when we were kids. You had me against this wall,” you said, backing him into the siding of the building.

“And you were leaning in, so we could both try something new,” you whispered, inching closer and closer to his mouth. 

You sighed when you felt his hands settle on your waist, surprised when you felt him pushing down.

“ **How much have you had to drink tonight**?”

You blinked in surprise, taking a step back from him. “Only a couple shots Frankie, same as always.” 

Frankie’s jaw ticked, unsure just how drunk you were. You were his best friend and he didn’t want you doing anything you would regret in the morning, despite how badly he wanted you _right now_.

“Keep my hat,” he said, walking away. “It looks cute on you.” 

“Frankie wait,” you called after him, heart pounding inside your chest. When he turned to look at you the yearning on his face broke your heart in half, a realization flooding you that after all this time, he had always been there waiting for you.

“Please don’t go,” you whispered quietly, willing the tears to stay off of your face. 

“I don’t want you to regret it,” he said, leaning on his truck to look at you, not trusting himself to get any closer. He didn’t have to as you quickly crossed the distance and pulled his mouth to yours, groaning when you felt his arm wrap around your waist. You pulled away from him, eyes wide and earnest. 

“The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner.”


	2. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none this is so soft and sweet; a child (well a pregnancy really)  
> Prompt: “Wow - you look…incredible” with Catfish!! Bonus points if reader’s not even in anything fancy, just casual clothes (even his clothes maybe??

Classic rock bopped out of your phone on the counter while you bounced on your heels, eagerly waiting for the oven to finish heating. You ran down your mental checklist, wanting everything to be perfect for Frankie when he got home…he had no idea you had taken the day off and you were excited to surprise him for once. 

You had cleaned pretty much the whole house when you got back from your very early morning appointment and you already set the table. Standing over your work you wrote a note in a card before placing a small photo inside and putting it on Frankie’s plate. His favorite beer was in the fridge, staying cold. Your chicken wings were double dredged, waiting to go into the oven to bake and your pizza crust was patiently waiting in it’s bowl, the baking stone slowly coming up to temperature. 

While you waited you wiggled your hips to the music, walking back to the counter and taking a cloth to the edge of your cake plate, wiping away errant smudges of frosting. You had made Frankie’s favorite dessert: a rich, dark, double chocolate layer cake that had taken the whole day to craft, but you did it with love knowing how much he would enjoy it after another long day at work. And how much sweeter it would make your _real_ surprise. 

When you were satisfied that the plate was clean and the cake was gorgeous, you ran your thumb along the hem of Frankie’s shirt, the one you loved to wear around the house when he was out. You briefly thought about going to change, switching from his t-shirt to his favorite dress, but you wanted to finish in the kitchen first, not willing to get your dress covered in flour. 

The oven finally beeped and you grabbed the tray of wings, setting them on the top rack of the oven. Checking the clock you saw you had roughly an hour before Frankie would be home, and you returned to the counter to put the pizza together, singing along to your music. 

Frankie unlocked the front door and stuck his head in, surprised that your car was in the driveway. You normally got home an hour after him, and he had planned on surprising you with your favorite flowers and calling for your favorite take-out. 

He heard your voice gently floating from the kitchen, singing along to that old Elton John song he always loved. He hid the flowers behind his back and toed off his boots, silently padding towards you before leaning on the door frame of the kitchen, watching you work. 

His mouth started watering when he caught sight of the most beautiful chocolate cake he had ever seen, but the cake paled in comparison to you. You were wearing one of his favorite t-shirts and tiny little cotton shorts that barely contained the swell of your ass as your hips moved to the song. And even with flour streaked through your hair and speckled all over your clothes, he swore you never looked more beautiful than in that moment. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, That I put down in words, How wonderful life is while you’re in the world,” you sang, your sweet voice filling his ears.

“ **Wow** ,” he whistled, making you quickly turn around in surprise, “ **you look…incredible**." 

Frankie was beaming at you and your knees began to shake a little, groaning when you realized your surprise had been ruined.

"You’re home early babe,” you smiled, leaning against the counter.

“Looks like we were trying to surprise each other,” he chuckled, pulling the huge bouquet from behind his back. 

“Oh Frankie,” you breathed, quickly crossing the kitchen to pull him into a hug, “they’re gorgeous.” His eyes were twinkling under his baseball cap as he looked down at you, cupping your chin in his hand.

“They’re nowhere near as beautiful as you are." 

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, feeling you mold against his body as your hand ran behind his neck, pulling him ever closer. When the two of you broke apart he sweetly kissed the center of your forehead, rubbing circles into your back with his hand. He was glowing as he looked around the kitchen.

"You didn’t have to do all of this for me honey.”

You rested your head against him, gently swaying to the music.

“I know, but it’s a special day and…I wanted to surprise you with your favorite things." 

"You’re my favorite thing,” he laughed, hugging you tighter still against him. 

“You say that now, but, there’s _one_ more surprise that’s going to knock me into second place,” you smiled against him, wiggling your arm free to grab the card. 

“Impossible.”

He was certain there was no surprise better than you; nothing in this world he could ever love more. He handed you the flowers which you sat on the table, urging him to open the envelope. 

When he did, Frankie barely saw the words in the card, focused instead on the black and white picture, your name typed in bright white on the upper left corner.

“Is that-” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat as tears started to well in his eyes.

“Are you-" 

You nodded your head and he fell to his knees in front of you, wrapping you in his arms and resting his head on your stomach as he gently shook, overcome with emotion.

"Told you,” you smiled, running your hands through his curls. 

Frankie kissed your stomach and stood back up, kissing you so hard you could feel his love, his admiration, his joy, being poured into your body.

“I love this little bean more than anything, but you will always be my best girl." 

You felt your own tears begin to stir, wrapping your arms as tight as you could around his waist. 

"Happy anniversary, baby.”


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Frankie and you are distraught while he is away on the mission; all he wants to do is get home  
> Warnings: angst, cursing, Triple Frontier spoilers; this is Emotional  
> Prompt: 16 (Hey, look at me) & 19 (I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life).

The helicopter was falling out of the sky, and the only thing Frankie could think about was you and Rebecca. He was trying to land safely, just to have a fighting chance at getting back to you. To hold you and tell you how much he loved you, how much he loved the daughter you had together. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and never let you go, ever again. 

He was piloting a helicopter that was doomed from the start. They promised they would listen.

They promised it would be worth it. 

*****

You were pacing the kitchen floor, bouncing the screaming baby on your hip. Rebecca was almost six months old and teething furiously, completely inconsolable. Frankie was the only one that could settle her when she got like this, and he was who knows where right now. Your mind raced with the possibility that this mission could go wrong. 

You had clung to him before he left, tears welling in your eyes as you begged him not to leave. He promised you it was for the best, that he could change your life, and his, and Rebecca’s, all for the better. You reluctantly let him go, and you regretted it the instant he got into Pope’s car. You and the baby cried together that night as you tried to calm her, singing to her gently while you rocked her back and forth. 

You hated waiting around like this.

*****

Frankie saw himself when Redfly got shot. Redfly wasn’t going to see his family again, but he was going to see you. He mourned his friend, lamented the greed that ultimately got in the way. And now there was a dead kid too, on top of the dead villagers. This whole thing fucking sucked.

He was days away from you and only minutes away from breaking. 

It definitely wasn’t worth it. 

*****

Frankie promised to come home. But he was late to call you. He had told you as much as he could while shrouding all the other details; it was better that you didn’t know exactly _what_ he had to do. You were playing with Rebecca, making funny faces at her, trying to distract yourself. 

It wasn’t until his call was two days late that panic began to fill your chest and you clung to Rebecca the entire day. You had no family of your own, it was just the three of you. And now the terror of it just being the two of you was starting to become very real. 

You didn’t sleep that night. 

*****

“I’m going to start _fucking_ killing people if that boat isn’t there!”

Frankie was screaming in the truck. The mission ran over and he couldn’t care less about the stupid fucking money. He needed to get back to you. To Rebecca. He would swim back to the States if he had to, if it was only to tell you he was sorry for ever leaving. 

He _might_ kill Pope after this.

That might be worth it. 

*****

Your phone rang at some ungodly hour of the morning and you sprang out of bed to answer it, hands shaking as an unfamiliar number flashed across your screen. You steeled yourself for the worst: Frankie was dead, and he wasn’t coming home.

“H-hello?” you choked out, voice laden with sleep and fear. 

“Baby,” he breathed into the line, and you couldn’t control the sobs that wracked your body.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

He tried to console you, but your heart was doing backflips; elated to hear his voice, enraged that he had worried you... relieved that he was coming home. 

He _was_ coming home, right? 

“You have 24 hours to get home before I track you down and strangle you,” you half laughed, half cried into the phone. 

“I’ll be there in less than 18. I love you.” 

When the line went dead you dried your tears with his shirt, the one you had slept in every night since he left. You quietly walked to Rebecca’s room and saw her sleeping soundly; it was going to be okay. It was finally over. 

*****

You were pacing around the house again, snuggling the baby to your body. You were wearing another one of Frankie’s shirts, your own wardrobe abandoned in his absence. The lights in the driveway caught your attention and you ran to the front door, watching Frankie get out of a cab. 

He saw you in the door and he ran, straight up the driveway and through the hedge, the walkway simply being too far from where his girls were waiting. He threw the door open and gathered you into his arms, covering your face in kisses before taking Rebecca in his arms, kissing her as well. 

He carefully took her to the pack-n-play, setting her inside so he could hold you close again, crushing you into his body. You were sobbing, burying your face in his neck.

“ **Hey, look at me** ,” he urged, peeling you away so he could hold your face in his hands, kissing you so softly you could hardly breathe. 

“I thought you were dead Frankie.”

Your voice was wavering, raspy from days of crying.

“ **I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life**.”

His eyes were full of tears too as he looked at you, pulling you securely against his chest.

“I thought I would never see you again. I would have swam home if I had to-” his voice was breaking; it was his turn to be inconsolable. 

You held him tight as you cried together, the fear falling away to be replaced by relief. 

“I swear,” Frankie spoke into your ear as he held you, “I will always come home to you.”

You and his daughter - you were worth the world to him. 

And there was nothing he would do to change what was right in front of him. 


End file.
